


For Just One Day

by Creme_Fraiche



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Freaky Friday Fusion, Anakin NO, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Bodyswap, Break Up, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Developing Relationship, Emotional Porn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Angst, God bless Padmé, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I have no idea how politics work, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Minor Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Misuse of the Force, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a homewrecker, Okay Rating is definitely going to go up, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Deserved Better, Padmé is a fucking saint, Rating May Change, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, That's Not How The Force Works, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Force Ships It, The one where Obi-Wan and Anakin learn to accept their feelings, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, This is gonna get weird, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, We have entered weird self-cest territory guys, Wedding Night, Wet Dream, bare with me, obikin endgame, thats it that’s the story, the author has a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme_Fraiche/pseuds/Creme_Fraiche
Summary: The day before Anakin is due to marry Padmé, the Force decides to flip the Jedi duo on their heads, literally.Now in each other’s bodies, Anakin and Obi-Wan must navigate the trials and tribulations of their lives from a completely different perspective.Can they handle it, even for just one day?
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 32
Kudos: 116
Collections: SW Especially Satisfying Stories





	1. The Switch

**Author's Note:**

> This is a terrible idea, and I love it. First time posting multiple chapters, thank you for choosing to open me! Comments are much appreciated, as are Kudos and Bookmarks! Thank you again!

Nobody was ever going to believe Anakin. Nobody could ever  _ possibly  _ believe him, but what he experienced that day was true. One hundred percent true. Everything had started the day before his wedding to Padmé Amidala, where he had faced his usual verbal thrashing from the council, all while Obi-Wan had sat and watched complacently. He struggled to respect the council, if he was totally honest with himself, and he struggled even more to respect their ‘rules’. Why should he obey some rules created by a fossil of a Jedi who probably wasn’t even alive anymore?

Anakin had spent his entire life doing what wrinkled, ageing, haggard old men had told him to do, and just when he’d been led to believe he was worth something more, he found himself being put on what could only be described as  _ trial  _ in front of the entire council, and to make it even worse, Obi-Wan never defended him. 

Just for once, he wanted Obi-Wan to stick up for him, to realise what it was like to be him. Obi-Wan had no idea the pressure he was facing, what gave him the right to dictate what was the so-called  _ correct  _ way to handle these things? All he ever did was cast judgement over him, even that morning before standing before the council, Obi-Wan had chastised him for wearing the same tunic as the day before, stating that he “wished he would change,”.

What a joke, Anakin had thought, but truthfully all he had wanted to do was scream at his Master how much he wished  _ he’d _ change. 

He couldn’t even deny that he relished the thought of Obi-Wan struggling to live a day in his shoes, the idea that he wouldn’t be able to handle all of the pressure that came along with being this ‘chosen one’ that the council just  _ loved  _ to throw out when they were scolding him for things that, realistically in his eyes, weren’t even that big a deal. 

On top of all of this, Obi-Wan was almost permanently on his back about his behaviour, even through their training, their sparring, kriff, even at  _ dinner  _ Obi-Wan would take any opportunity to comment on Anakin’s actions. It felt like he was going out of his way to be difficult and act as the Devil’s Advocate. 

“Why do you always have to be right?” Anakin would often ask, in a heat of frustration, staring at his Master across the table, to which Obi-Wan always gave the same, smug response. 

“Because I’m your Master, Anakin.”   
  
Like, what?  _ Are you joking? _

Anakin wanted his Master to praise him, that was all. He just wanted to be told that he was  _ good  _ at something for once, but not by anyone. Padmé told him he was good at things all the time, but her opinion meant nothing compared to Obi-Wan’s. He wanted  _ Obi-Wan  _ to say he was good, no, he wanted Obi-Wan to say that he was  _ perfect _ . 

Was that weird? No, no it wasn’t weird. It’s perfectly normal to want your Master to praise you. 

_ Just not the way Anakin wanted to be praised _ . 

  * • •• ••



Obi-Wan was immensely proud of his Padawan, and everybody seemed to know that  _ except _ for his Padawan. He had trained him with all of the knowledge he had gained from his years training under his own Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, Force rest his soul. However, so much pride could only go so far when Anakin was so defiant, becoming more and more difficult as the years had progressed, and his relationship with Padmé had only escalated his attitude, turning him into this self-indulgent cock of the walk at the temple. Obi-Wan could see the way other Padawans looked at him, judgemental and jealous of his status, because as arrogant as Anakin had become, he was the  _ chosen one _ , and all Jedi had to respect that. He wanted to protect him, shield him from the anger and resentment of the other Jedi who believed he wasn’t worthy of such a title, and he had tried his best to create a healthy dynamic in their training, following Qui-Gon’s lessons of never giving praise to their face, as he understood it drove Anakin to work harder. 

Obi-Wan wanted the best for Anakin, even if he never admitted it. He had to make Anakin understand how the Jedi work, how you must do what is asked of you, and that the council will  _ always  _ know what is best. There was no room for discussion on the matter, you comply and you perform your tasks diligently. This is the way. 

Would it be so hard for Anakin to act maturely and responsibly? Even for just  _ one day _ , Obi-Wan would consider that a positive change. But no, after the meeting in the council that morning, yet another day of Anakin fighting back and resisting against his attempts to guide him towards clarity and Jedi Knighthood. All Obi-Wan wanted was for Anakin to be happy, it wasn’t like they’d had an easy time together, especially not after Qui-Gon’s death. For a long time, Anakin had been Obi-Wan’s rock, his emotional support as they had travelled the galaxy together, spreading the word of Jedi peace and prosperity. The loss of his Master had impacted Obi-Wan deeply, but truthfully he had never considered how it had affected Anakin, nor had he considered how the changes to how he treated Anakin as he grew into a man had affected him either. 

Unfortunately, he had grown frustrated with his Padawan, his irresponsible behaviour having gotten progressively worse since their return to Coruscant. Obi-Wan wanted Anakin to understand responsibility, to challenge himself and to make a genuine attempt to understand how  _ he  _ felt, consider things from  _ his  _ perspective. How difficult could it be, for him to show just a little control, and maybe even some manners to the council. Anakin was even more disrespectful in the presence of Obi-Wan’s close friend Duchess Satine Kryze, but he knew that one day, Anakin would learn. 

_ He could keep wishing _ . 

** ** **

“Master, how can they be so… So…” 

“Right?” Obi-Wan replied, as he watched Anakin pace endlessly around their quarters, raising an eyebrow as his Padawan turned to face him suddenly. 

“Right?” Anakin exclaimed, staring across at his Master, who sat so casually, so ignorant he could  _ throttle  _ him, “Master, they are not  _ right _ , they are relics! They’re oblivious to how the galaxy works, there’s so much out there that they have no idea about!”   
  
Obi-Wan sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead slowly as he sank his head down, groaning as he stood, looking over at Anakin,   
“Anakin, the council has every idea about the galaxy, and how it works,” He moved over to his Padawan, placing a hand on his shoulder, “You need to learn to respect them more, this bravado has to come to a close.”   
  
Anakin pushed Obi-Wan’s hand off of his shoulder, scowling as he moved back,

“Why do you always side with them, Master?” He turned, looking out the window of their living area towards the Jedi Temple on the skyline, “You dismiss everything that I say, you act like I don’t know anything!”   
  
Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed, finding Anakin’s accusations almost hurtful,

“I don’t  _ always side with them _ , Anakin. I agree with what they say,” He replied, the tension in the room rising quickly, “And I agree with them because you are acting like a  _ child _ .”   
  
These words cut into Anakin, his face hot as he turned to look at Obi-Wan. He could feel his fuse shortening, and if Obi-Wan didn’t stop pushing his buttons, he would very quickly explode. 

“ _ I’m  _ acting like a child?” He took long strides, reaching Obi-Wan and looking him dead in the eye, “Maybe I wouldn’t do that if you treated me like an adult.”   
  
Obi-Wan didn’t back down from his Padawan’s approach, keeping his posture strong as he stared back, 

“They say that when a Padawan complains about not being treated like an adult, it’s usually because that’s exactly how they’re being treated.” 

The staredown became silent, the pair daring each other to make the first move. What that first move would be was anyone’s guess, but the masculinity contest was broken as Anakin gave in, turning and punching a wall, yelling in frustration.

  
  


The silence returned, Obi-Wan softening as he looked over Anakin, reaching out and placing a hand on his Padawan’s arm,

“Anakin…”   
  
Anakin shrugged Obi-Wan’s hand away, breathing heavily, 

“I hate you.” He said at last, a small break in his voice ringing out. Obi-Wan’s heart sank, sinking back, but refusing to give up.

“Excuse me?” He asked, folding his arms sternly. Anakin turned to face him, eyes reddening as tears threatened to break through,

“I said, I  _ hate  _ you.” He repeated, now with more strength. Obi-Wan shook his head, straightening his back and clenching his jaw,

“I  _ hate _ your attitude,” Obi-Wan took a step forward, closing the gap between his Padawan and himself, “You have a lot of work to do, my Padawan. You have a lot of growth ahead of you, and unless you start taking steps to act maturely, you will never be any more than just a Padawan.”

Anakin choked a laugh, tilting his head to the ceiling, his hands clenched into fists at his side as he stood his ground,   
“Master, I don’t want to live grandly, I don’t want any of these things that you force upon me, I just want to be respected, and to be treated as an equal. I want you to understand things from  _ my  _ perspective.” He explained as clearly as he could, but he wasn’t reaching Obi-Wan, and he could tell. His Master’s expression remained cold and almost judgemental, raising an eyebrow.

“Anakin, if you only began to understand all of the work I have to do to make sure that you can even  _ remain  _ a Jedi, you would have much more of an appreciation for your status  _ as _ a Jedi,” Obi-Wan gave his retort sharply, turning and moving back across the room, waving a hand to dismiss Anakin’s words, “I would love nothing more than to be a Padawan again, no pressures, no council meetings,” He listed, sitting heavily on the couch, smiling with a soft chuckle, “You have no idea, Anakin, the pressure of being a Jedi Master.”

Anakin felt his skin crawling as Obi-Wan waved him off, and his nonchalant chuckle drove him further to his breaking point, slamming his foot down as he moved toward the centre of the room,   
“No, Master,  _ you  _ have no idea the pressure of being a Padawan, especially not this  _ chosen one  _ you all talk about. You wouldn’t last one day as me, Master, and you have too much pride to admit it.” His temper was simmering, forcing himself to keep his cool, knowing that any sort of break would just give Obi-Wan the high ground. 

Obi-Wan rose to his feet suddenly, his body tense as he restrained himself. He couldn’t allow himself to crack against the arrogance of his Padawan, and he couldn’t give him any sort of leverage. He knew Anakin, and he knew that he was dangerous when armed with knowledge.

“You wouldn’t last one day as  _ me,  _ Anakin. I’d very much like to see you in the Senate, providing calm and measured answers in the mental battlefield of that room.” Obi-Wan moved towards Anakin, grabbing his hand, “Not even one day.”

Anakin gripped Obi-Wan’s hand tightly, gritting his teeth, pulling him closer, toe-to-toe in the centre of the living area,

“If only you’d understand, Master.”   
  
A bright light shot from the space between them, consuming their bodies as time came to a halt. The room was spinning, both Anakin and Obi-Wan frozen in place, glaring through each other with fiery intensity.

If they were so desperate to understand one another, why not make things easier? The Force was an unforgiving mistress, of course, but she was never unfair, and above all else she enjoyed seeing scores settled. With a twist of fate and a shake of midichlorians, the Force erupted in their bodies, overflowing and pouring out, their bodies tingling as they found themselves in darkness, each light in the room surging to a bursting point. A burst of Force energy threw them to either end of the room, hitting the floor with tremendous gravity.

As time began to move freely again, Anakin raised a hand to his forehead, groaning,

“Anakin, what did you do…?” He asked, his ears ringing. He dragged himself to his feet, staggering slightly, “Anakin, answer me.”

Obi-Wan, however, was sitting on the other side of the room, staring at Anakin, mouth agape.

“Master… There’s a clone here, he looks just like me,” He called out, his vision still blurry from the blast causing him to hit his head upon landing, “Where are you, Master?”   
  
As realisation washed over Anakin, he reached up, running a hand down his Padawan braid, his eyes beginning to widen, his breathing shaky,

“Anakin,” He tried, moving towards Obi-Wan, “It’s me, Obi-Wan.” He leaned down, trying to support Obi-Wan as he stood, only to be pushed away,

“What?” He exclaimed, looking Anakin up and down, “Shut up, you’re not my master!”   
  
“Anakin,” Anakin quickly retorted, sternly, “Do not tell me to shut up.”

Obi-Wan froze, before shrinking into himself with a wince,   
“Holy kriff, you are my Master, but,” He looked down at himself, yelling as he turned on the spot, trying to see as much of himself as he could, pushing Anakin aside as he went to the ‘fresher, staring into the mirror aghast, his eyes full of horror, “I’m  _ you _ ?!”

Following Obi-Wan, Anakin took a deep breath, looking over his Master’s shoulder into the mirror, 

“It would appear so, my Padawan,” He sighed heavily, before swatting Obi-Wan’s hand as he caught him tracing the lines of his wrinkles on his forehead, scowling, “Stop that.”   
  
“But Master,” Obi-Wan replied, continuing the action regardless, “Look, I pull it,” He said, pulling at his face and lifting his hand, “And it stays there.”   
  
Anakin pulled Obi-Wan away from the mirror, back into the living area, 

“Yes, yes, I get it, I am  _ old  _ Anakin, but can you please focus on what is happening? We’ve discovered a completely unheard of phenomenon,” He stood in the centre of the room, keeping Obi-Wan next to him as he looked around for any traces of Force energy, or any sign of tampering with their room, “We need to contact the council, immediately.”

Pulling from his side, Obi-Wan snorted, shaking his head,

“Master, if we tell the council that we switched bodies, they’ll lock us up forever,” He grinned, a cheeky smile that looked entirely out of place on his lips, “And we’ll be shipped away on a psych carrier, free to drift in the space junk for eternity until somebody writes a book about us.” 

And as much as it pained Anakin, he knew that Obi-Wan was right, or was it that  _ Anakin  _ was right? The situation made his head hurt, his body still worn from the blast. They had the facts, they had been arguing in their own bodies not but five minutes ago, and now they were in each other’s body. Something had happened in that timespan, but what?

Anakin turned, placing his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders and taking a deep breath,

“We can fix this,” He attempted to smile, his body suddenly feeling so alien to him, limbs too long, tongue too big, everything felt so out of place, “We just need to stay here, and try to form some semblance of a plan.” He closed his eyes, attempting to formulate a strategy for  _ sorting this shit out _ and getting himself back into his own body. Obi-Wan, however, seemed entirely too amused, snickering to himself. Anakin opened his eyes, cocking his head to the side slightly,

“Is something funny about this, Padawan?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, covering his mouth and exhaling slowly, centring himself,

“No, Master, it’s just,” He looked to the side, the giggles starting again, “I can’t stay here today, it’s the wedding tomorrow.” He looked back at Anakin, grinning like a child, “And you’re in my body.”

_ Shit. He was right. _

Anakin released Obi-Wan, running his fingers through his messy, sandy blonde hair as he moved back, struggling to keep a steady breathing pace, 

“Anakin, I cannot marry Padmé,” He had to hunch over, placing his hands on his thighs as the weight of the situation truly settled in, “We have to postpone, or-”   
  
“Absolutely not,” Obi-Wan retaliated quickly, the giggles dissipating into nothing, “Padmé has put her heart and soul into this wedding, even if it is to be held in secret, we can’t postpone it.” He declared, fixing his robes and frowning, “Master, you need to pretend to be me. I know that will be difficult, and you’re gonna face a lot of challenges today, but,” He paused as Anakin began to laugh, straightening up,

“ _ Challenges _ ?” He teased, pushing his braid over his shoulder and smirking, suddenly feeling a lot more comfortable in this new skin, “My Padawan, I know you may find it surprising, but I was a Padawan once, and I survived.” He asserted, looking down at the robes he was dressed in, “Now, where do you keep your clean robes, Anakin? These ones,” He raised the sleeve to his nose, retching slightly as the smell of the previous day’s meals and training sessions lingered in the fabric, “They have not been improved by time, let me assure you.”

** ** **

Anakin emerged from his chambers, fresh and in a clean set of robes, so clean that it was like they had never been worn. He ran a hand over the clean, creaseless linen, smiling as the scent of fabric softener filling his nostrils. Simple things, Kenobi, simple things. He shifted his gaze over to the couch where Obi-Wan was sitting, spread out, his feet unapologetically on the coffee table, his cloak and boots thrown across the armchair, unkempt and disheveled. Laziness wasn’t a good look on Obi-Wan, and seeing himself from the outside further proved that point. 

“Anakin,” He called across the room, clapping his hands to get his attention, “What are you doing?” 

Obi-Wan threw his head back, groaning loudly,   
“Master, don’t you have somewhere to be?” He asked, slinging his arms over the back of the couch, not turning his head to look in Anakin’s direction, who sternly approached him, standing over him behind the couch,

“Anakin, I don’t like your tone,” He warned, folding his arms and looking down into his eyes.

Obi-Wan just smirked, meeting Anakin’s gaze and chuckling,   
“Why not? It’s your tone.” He replied, kicking one leg over the other, maintaining his slobbishness in rebellion, awaiting Anakin’s reply. Somehow, in this new body, he found it far easier to talk back to his Master, who sank back, covering his face with a groan,   
“Anakin, please,” He sighed, “This is not the time to start being difficult, I can’t go and see Padmé by myself, I don’t know what to say to her.” His pitch raised, catching himself on several voice cracks, clearing his throat. He nudged Obi-Wan, moving around the couch and sitting beside him, “Please, Anakin.”

Obi-Wan lazily rolled his head to the side, looking at Anakin, the smirk having only grown to a cocky grin as he sat up. He looked his Master up and down, admiring his own body through Obi-Wan’s eyes,    
“You’ll be fine, Master. You have a way with women, you’re the charming  _ Obi-Wan Kenobi _ right?” He said in a hushed tone, almost flirtatiously. Anakin met Obi-Wan’s gaze, a tenderness passing through him. Did Anakin always look at him like this?

_ Snap out of it, Kenobi. Focus. _

“You’re right,” Anakin said at last, rising to his feet and straightening himself out, “I can do this, I’ll be fine!”

He would not be fine.

  
  



	2. The Senate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Obi-Wan attempt to follow each other's plans for their day, finding their respective tasks far more demanding than initially thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting from this chapter, outside of speech, Obi-Wan will denote Obi-Wan in Anakin's body, and Anakin will denote Anakin in Obi-Wan's body. Inside of speech (excluding dialogue between the two), the names will match up to the body before the character speaking. Hope that makes sense!! 
> 
> Also, this is a SLOW slow burn, but Obikin will begin in the next chapter, I promise!!

Obi-Wan paused outside Senator Amidala’s office, meditating slowly to relax himself. He had only been inside Anakin’s body for an hour, but already he was struggling to find his balance in the Force, a skill he was now discovering he had taken for granted in his own body. He stood with his eyes closed, finding a moment of complete stillness before yet another hook of doubt snagged into his core. He shook it off as best he could, but whenever he managed to find his centre, fear and anxiety reared their heads. Did Anakin always feel like this? He opened his eyes, shaking himself out with a heavy sigh. Anakin’s foolish self-consciousness would not stop him from getting through this day, which frankly, Obi-Wan was looking forward to. He had an entire day of tasting wines and picking out napkins with a woman whose company he had otherwise tolerated before  _ this  _ happened. 

The doors opened, revealing Padmé, her hair tied up in it’s usual fashion, her sample-size body wearing Nabooian silk so effortlessly. Obi-Wan didn’t always like Padmé, but he had to admit that she had exquisite taste. Padmé’s eyes lit up as she looked over Obi-Wan, in Anakin’s skin, and she hugged him tightly,

“Ani, I’m so glad you’re here,” She rested her head against his chest, only to stagger slightly as Obi-Wan instinctively backed up, raising his hands.

“Padmé,” He began, catching himself and clearing his throat, before nervously patting her on the shoulder, “It’s good to see you.”

_ This was going to be harder than he had initially thought. _

Padmé’s expression faltered for a second, looking over the man before her with a brief wash of confusion, before her smile returned, taking his hand and leading him into the office,

“We have a lot to do, Ani,” She led him over to a table on the far side of the room,

“The Pontifex from the Brotherhood of Cognizance is stopping by here soon, to discuss our plans for the ceremony,” She pulled a stack of papers from the table, flicking through them as she continued to reel off the plan for the day, “The guest list is extremely small, only three guests each, as we agreed,” She handed Obi-Wan three slips of paper, “And don’t forget, you need to collect your ceremonial robes, you placed the order, didn’t you?”   
  
She looked up at Obi-Wan, who looked back at her, dazed and struggling to process everything she had just thrown at him. She clicked her fingers in Obi-Wan’s face, smiling gently,

“Ani, focus please,” She lowered her hand, laughing gently as she turned, moving across to her desk, “You wanted this wedding to happen as fast as possible, so the least you can do is listen.”

Obi-Wan shook himself out of his daze, nodding as he followed Padmé, sitting beside her,

“My apologies, Senator Amidala,” He replied, pausing and forcing a laugh, “I mean, Padmé. Sorry, the office is throwing me.” He joked, gesturing vaguely to the area around them. Padmé ran her eyes over him, placing the papers down and sighing, placing a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder,

“Ani, are you alright?” She asked softly, massaging a slow circle on his shoulder, “If all this wedding talk is stressing you, we can stop,” She shifted closer, leaning in for a kiss as her eyes slowly closed, “After all, I’ve missed you…” 

Padmé found that she kept going, opening her eyes to see that Obi-Wan had leaned back from her kiss, staring at her. She frowned slightly, moving back to her original position awkwardly. Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, sitting upright,

“Sorry, Padmé. I had garlic, I didn’t want to,” He struggled to formulate a lie that would be plausible, choosing to fall silent as he attempted to maintain composure. He wanted to run, he had to figure out how this had happened. He turned to look at Padmé, who was again looking to him, this time with a tender glaze in her eyes,

“Ani, is Obi-Wan giving you a tough time again?” She asked, taking the man’s hand and holding it in both of hers, eyes never leaving, who she thought to be, her fiancé’s face. Obi-Wan felt himself tense, meeting Padmé’s gaze,

“My Master has an extreme amount of pressure on him at all times, if anything I give him a tough time.” He replied sternly, his mind filling with questions about what  _ exactly  _ Anakin had been saying about him.

“Ani,” Padmé sighed, “I know you feel like he doesn’t care about you, and I understand,” She tried, pausing as she saw the shift on his face, changing from stern to an almost wounded expression. Obi-Wan looked down into his lap momentarily, before turning to look back at Padmé,

“Did I really say that?” 

A knock at the door broke their moment before she could answer, Padmé releasing his hand and rising to her feet, 

“Ani, that’s the Pontifex,” She moved around the desk, shaking her hands out as she grinned excitedly, taking her place in front of the desk, motioning for Obi-Wan to join her. He couldn’t shake what Padmé had said, but he went to her side and gave his best smile, knowing that he had to keep up the appearances. 

The doors opened, and an elderly man entered the room, dressed in purple Nabooian robes, smiling warmly as he saw the couple,    
“Your Majesty,” He moved across the room, arms wide as he embraced Padmé welcomingly, “It is an honour.”   
  
Padmé hugged the man back, resting her chin on his shoulder, 

“It’s good to see you Maxiron,” She drew back from the hug, gesturing to the man beside her, “I’d like you to meet my betrothed, Anakin Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan stared ahead, his temples throbbing lightly as a dozen questions and doubts circled in his mind, his posture rigid, completely unaware of what was happening around him. Padmé nudged him slightly, managing a small smile,

“Ani?”   
  
Obi-Wan jolted out of his trance, 

“ _ Good morning! _ ” He yelled, looking between Padmé and Maxiron, figuring that he would be playing catch-up on this particular instance. Maxiron chuckled, extending his arm for a handshake, looking over the man before him,

“It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Young Skywalker,” He shook Obi-Wan’s hand graciously, returning his attention to Padmé, “Your Majesty, as you know, my people have not been asked to oversee a ceremony in over three hundred years, and as such the proceedings are slightly different from the more popular civil ceremonies,” He went on, discussing the ins-and-outs of what he thought of civil ceremonies, and such. Obi-Wan could feel himself clocking out of the conversation again, his mind fixing almost obsessively on what Padmé had said, unable to comprehend what he could have possibly done to make Anakin believe that he didn’t care about him. He couldn’t have been  _ that  _ strict in their training, could he? He drifted back from his pondering, returning his attention to the conversation between Padmé and Maxiron.

Padmé had been nodding in agreement to the majority of what the man had been saying, her diplomatic side beaming through into the conversation. She had laughed, and she had given her opinion on one or two things, but now she had turned her attention to Obi-Wan, her eyes bright,

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, doesn’t it, Ani?” 

  
  
  


Obi-Wan forced a smile, nodding,

“Yes, yes! Wonderful!” He thoughtlessly agreed, completely unbeknownst to what he had agreed to, trying to read between the lines of the situation. Maxiron clasped his hands together, grinning as he looked between the young couple,

“Excellent,” He stepped back, “Now, I must be on my way, but I look forward to seeing you both tomorrow.”

As Maxiron left the office, Obi-Wan could only describe the feeling in his chest as panic. It was total, utter panic. He needed to get his head in the game and stop mithering over what Anakin had allegedly confided to Padmé about, he knew that he cared about him, surely. And what exactly had he agreed to? Or rather, had he made  _ Anakin  _ agree to?

  * * * 



Anakin proudly wandered the halls of the temple, greeting passer-bys with gusto and enthusiasm, a spring in his step as he felt the alleviation of all the pressure, for no longer was he a Padawan, and gone was the feeling of having to compete against his  _ chosen  _ status. He was a Jedi Master, a general in the Clone Wars, and he had serious influence in the Senate. He was indestructible in his Master’s body, aside from this damned itchy beard, how did Obi-Wan deal with this?

He turned a corner, taking a more than confident step, colliding with Master Mace Windu, stumbling back to catch himself on the wall. Mace looked over Anakin with concern, reaching out to support him,

“Are you alright, Master Kenobi?” He helped Anakin catch his balance, who frowned as he met his gaze,

“Master Kenobi, I…” He trailed off, before grinning, “Yeah, that’s me. I’m good, but watch where you’re going, Windu.” He moved around Mace, his smug aura rubbing the Jedi Master entirely the wrong way. He turned, catching Anakin on the shoulder, guiding him back to where they had been stood, his body language suddenly very stern,

“Master Kenobi, are you sure you’re alright? That was quite a clash we had, it would be remiss of me to not-”   
  
Anakin waved his hand in Mace’s face, shaking his head,

“Master Windu, I am fine. I’m in very high spirits, and why wouldn’t I be? I haven’t got a care in the galaxy.” He repeated his attempt to move away from Mace, finding himself only to get brought back to their conversation, staring blankly at the man who greeted him this time with a concerning smile, 

“Is that so, Master Kenobi?” He asked, “Well then, if you’re in such high spirits I’m certain you’d be more than happy to accompany me to the Senate, yes?”

Anakin felt his throat tighten, making like he was going to decline the offer, but Mace was having none of it, smacking him firmly on the back as he guided him down an adjoining corridor toward a landing bay, 

“I knew you couldn’t refuse, Kenobi, the Senate have gotten themselves into a state over the war, I trust you’ll be able to talk some sense into them.”

_ Shit. _

  * _* *_



Obi-Wan stood beside Padmé, smiling tensely as another bright white flash went off in his eyes, C-3PO bowing stiffly, thanking them for their patience before removing the camera lens from his eye socket, passing it off to R2-D2, who took the lens into his canister. Padmé lowered her shoulders, chest sinking as she slowly exhaled,

“I’d forgotten how exhausting these pictures can be,” She laughed, turning to face Obi-Wan and placing her hands on his shoulders, “But just think about how wonderful things will be once this is all over, once we are  _ married _ .”

Obi-Wan felt a knot build in his stomach, managing a chuckle as he politely shrugged Padmé’s hands off himself, 

“Yes, yes, but… What will the Senate think if they find out?” He asked, knowing that the real burning question he had was what would the  _ council  _ think if they found out. Anakin would be cast out from the order, and Padmé would no doubt be ostracized by her people for marrying a commoner, let alone a  _ Jedi _ . Padmé withdrew into herself, folding her arms and looking to the floor, her heart heavy,

“I don’t know what they’ll say, Ani, but,” She returned her gaze to meet Obi-Wan’s, her eyes filled with emotion, “I don’t care, you know that I love you.”

She began to rise for another attempt at a kiss, once again finding that she hadn’t met her mark, her hurt expression showing more than before, her body tensing,    
“Anakin, I love you,” She repeated, closing into herself as she stepped back, “But you’re acting differently today.”   
  
The knot in Obi-Wan’s stomach rose into panic, feeling himself fluster as he took Padmé’s hand,   
“And I…” He tried, dragging the words from his gut, “I love you too, Padmé, I’m just overthinking things, that’s all.”

Padmé relaxed, her gentle smile returning as she squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand, 

“I understand, Ani. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted you,” She moved her attention to a clock on the wall, drawing in her breath tightly as she realised the time, “I must be going, I have to go to the Senate immediately,”   
  
Obi-Wan caught her as she began to leave, eyes lowering,   
“Would you perhaps like me to join you, my love?” He asked, the words tasting sour on his lips, but he knew that by some slim chance that Anakin would be there, in his body, ready and willing to  _ kriff things up _ . Padmé’s expression brightened, her posture lifting as she squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand,

“I’d like that very much, Ani,” She led him to the door, signalling a guard to start their transport, “You can act as my guard.”

  * * *



The Senate roared with chatter, each and every speaker fighting to get his or her voice heard above the rest. There was significant unrest amongst the senators, Chancellor Sheev Palpatine taking to the centre podium to address the room.

“My fellow politicians, people of the Senate, and their lieges,” He began, commanding the room with his usual pomp and gravitas, “We are all entitled to our opinions, especially on a matter as pressing as this, but we must have patience, and speak uniformly.”

Padmé sat in her assigned repulsorpod, Obi-Wan remaining toward the back with the Nabooian guard that had travelled with them, not to arouse rumors or gossip. His eyes travelled across the room, until they landed on another pod across the room, spotting Mace, Ki-Adi and Anakin, in his body, discussing something intensely. 

_ Watch your mouth, Padawan. You underestimate the power of words. _

“We are gathered in congress, now, our first speakers, the Jedi Order, have elected Master Obi-Wan Kenobi to speak for them,” Chancellor Palpatine gestured grandly towards the pod that moved toward the centre of the chamber, the room falling silent as all attention turned to Anakin, who stood proudly, too proudly.

Obi-Wan felt his heart in his throat, sweating profusely in the corner of the Naboo pod. This could only go badly, this was only ever going to go poorly. He braced himself, readying to intervene at any given point. He could operate these pods in his sleep.

Anakin cleared his throat, a broad smile on his lips as he greeted the Senate,

“Senators of the Senate, I am here to say, that war is bad,” He nodded, hands on his hips, “War is bad, and that’s that. Thank you, Galactic Republic!”

Silence passed over the room, and Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to cry, burying his face in his hands, groaning into his palms.

_ Oh, Anakin… _

Mace, along with Ki-Adi, were staring at Anakin, in shock and horror, as the entire Senate erupted into raucous laughter, booing the Jedi pod, several members of the congress yelling expletives at them. Anakin’s expression dropped, his confidence fading fast. What had he done wrong? What had he  _ said  _ wrong? War was bad! Where was the lie?!

“Why are you booing me,” Anakin yelled into the echo of the chamber, “You know I’m right!”

Mace hauled Anakin down to his level, eyes narrowing,

“You best shut your mouth this second, Kenobi, you are on  _ thin ice _ .” He warned, his tone dark and menacing. Anakin clammed up immediately, sitting down as the pod retreated back into it’s dock.

Chancellor Palpatine held back a smirk as he returned his attention to the rowdy Senate, grabbing their attention once again,

“Now, now, we are all adults here. We must respect each other, even in the face of such… Poetic words,” He gestured to the Nabooian pod, “However, I call upon the speaker from Naboo, Senator Padmé, to provide more eloquence on this matter.”

“That will not be necessary,” A new voice resounded through the room, a pod hovering into the centre of the camber.

Sheev straightened up, examining the owner of the pod and tensing,

“Senator Kryze, what a surprise,” He announced, a false smile crossing his thin lips, returning his attention to the rest of the room, “Congress, I ask that you lend your ear to our new speaker, Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore.”

Obi-Wan moved to the edge of the pod, leaning over the edge slowly to allow himself a better view. Duchess Satine was a close friend of his, or at least she was when he was in his own body. It had only been a few hours, but he was already missing his body more than he thought he could. 

Satine had always commanded a room with her presence, her piercing eyes casting fear into the heart of anyone who dared engage her in a heated debate. She was a powerful, yet extremely level-headed woman, and it was no wonder Obi-Wan had the level of respect he had for her. Padmé could only wish to be half the Senator that Satine was. 

Anakin was sinking into his chair on the far side of the Senate, paying little to no attention to Satine’s eloquence and poise as she addressed them, folding his arms firmly across his chest, only lifting his hand to scratch this  _ kriffing beard _ . He scratched again, groaning as he sank further into his seat. Did Obi-Wan seriously have to deal with this? Standing in front of all of these judgemental people, knowing that no matter what he did, somebody, somewhere in this room, would have a problem with it? That would tell him he was wrong? 

Obi-Wan, however, hung from every word that Satine dictated, every delicate phrasing as she commanded their attention, perfectly executing her message.

“Violence will never lead to peace,” Satine had the most wonderful diction, Obi-Wan had noticed, and her poise never faltered, “We cannot expect a peaceful resolve to ever come from this, and that is why I second Master Kenobi’s motion, war  _ is  _ bad. I thank you for your time.”

The Senate applauded Satine as her pod retreated to it’s dock, Obi-Wan leaning against the edge of the Naboo pod and sighing heartily,

“What a woman,” He smiled gently, forgetting his place entirely. Padmé paused, turning to look at him with an accusing glance, as Obi-Wan continued to gaze out at Satine. He turned, catching Padmé’s eyes and clearing his throat, “I mean, she’s got such poise, Padmé, surely you see that.”   
  
Padmé didn’t respond, instead rising from her seat and motioning to her guard,   
“We are ready to leave, I’ve heard enough,” She moved to the exit, gingerly lifting the front of her dress to step over the gap to the door, her attitude having hardened completely, “Take me back to my quarters.”

Obi-Wan watched Padmé leave, feeling that knot return to his gut. He’d really done it now, he had to find Anakin. He had to focus, and figure out what was happening, before he made any more mistakes like that one. He turned, exiting to follow Padmé, formulating a plan of action in his head.

Everything had changed at that moment in their quarters, that was the anomaly,  _ that  _ was the catalyst. Something happened at that exact moment, and he just had to find out exactly what that thing is that happened. Piece of cake, surely. 

That’s what he kept telling himself. 

  * * *



The journey back to Padmé’s office had been silent, uncomfortably so. Not a single word was uttered, until they were alone in the room, without the guards. Padmé turned suddenly to Obi-Wan, her bubbling rage having finally hit the surface,

“What a woman?” She asked, more fiery than Obi-Wan had ever seen her, “What exactly does that mean, Ani?”

Obi-Wan stood tall, staying on the far side of the room,    
“I respect her, that is all. My Master has a great deal of appreciation for Senator Kryze, as do I.” He remained calm, cool and collected, believing he was doing the right thing by doing so. Padmé, however, saw the situation very differently,

“You never take an interest in politics, Anakin,” She moved over to her desk, leaning against it with a wide stance, “You always told me you didn’t believe in it. Yet suddenly, you proclaim an interest because of the  _ remarkable  _ Duchess Satine.” 

Becoming slightly riled, Obi-Wan straightened his posture, staring Padmé down across the room, 

“She is a proud woman, who does an excellent job,” He replied, never moving from the spot, feeling that anxiety from earlier beginning to creep up, Anakin’s fears beginning to carve their way into him. Padmé held her ground, chest tight and stomach knotted,

“Ani, are you not telling me something?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, an asphyxiating feeling closing around him, 

“No, Padmé, all I’m saying is that,” He tried, the anxiety bubbling away, beginning to form into something more malicious, a biting, burning feeling, that made him feel like he wanted to claw at Padmé, ripping her apart with his words, “You could do worse than to be more like her.”   
  
Padmé raised a hand to her chest, barely choking back a stream of tears that threatened to break her, standing tall,

“Ani, I’d really like to not see you right now,” She turned to face the window, visibly hurt by Obi-Wan’s words, “Please, leave.”   
  
The fear that remained flooded Obi-Wan’s body as he realised what he had said, motioning to move over to Padmé, who stopped him with a raised hand in warning,   
“Leave.” She repeated, this time with far more weight to her words. Obi-Wan knew that this time, she meant it. Bowing out gracefully, Obi-Wan left the office, cursing himself as he made for his cruiser. Anakin was going to tear him limb from limb if he’d ruined his marriage, and yet… Part of him, deep down, was glad. Inexplicably, the idea of Anakin and Padmé’s marriage falling apart made a small part of him, deep down in his chest, almost elated. He fought the feeling away, confused and somewhat disturbed by it. He had to find Anakin. 

Anakin, who had returned to the Jedi Temple with Master Windu and Master Mundi, was more than happy to be out of there. He had returned to his quarters, barely escaping a verbal beatdown by the entire council for his pathetic speech. He was supposed to be  _ Obi-Wan, the great negotiator,  _ but he didn’t have the answers that his Master had. He couldn’t even surmise a sentence on the matter, let alone a moving speech like Satine had given. He hated to admit it, but he was beginning to regret being such a brat about his treatment. He knew that of course, he still had it a lot harder than Obi-Wan, but he could admit at least  _ a little  _ fault. Just a little. He turned as the doors opened, Obi-Wan striding in. Anakin grinned, opening his arms,    
“Oh look, it’s me.” He teased, frowning as Obi-Wan found his little joke far less than amusing. Obi-Wan took long strides towards him, scowling,

“Now is not the time for jokes, Anakin, what the hell do you call that little display out there in the Senate?  _ War is bad _ ?” He put his fingers to his temples, mimicking the sound of an explosion, “No shit, Anakin, war is terrible, but they all know that! That was why the meeting was called.”   
  
Anakin huffed, backing away and sitting heavily on the couch, 

“I just said what you would say, that’s all.” He grumbled, sulking like a teenager as he kicked his feet unceremoniously onto the coffee table again. Obi-Wan stood over him, his stare burning a hole right through him, 

“What I would say? Anakin, have you  _ listened  _ to a single one of my speeches? Kriff, have you ever been  _ present _ for one of my speeches?” He raised the question, which Anakin knew fully well he didn’t have an answer to, and Obi-Wan knew this as well. Their stare was broken as Anakin groaned loudly, standing up, 

“Master, please tell me you’ve figured out a way for us to change back,” He moved around the table, changing the subject swiftly and standing across from Obi-Wan. It was weird to look at his own body from the outside, that much was clear. He’d never noticed how long his braid had gotten, or how wide his natural stance was. Had he always stood like that? He looked like a jerk. Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s eyes on him, frowning,   
“Anakin,” He snapped his fingers in his face, “Now is not the time to admire yourself, we need to focus, now,” He trailed off, Anakin drifting out of the conversation as his eyes ran over his body opposite him, a low flame burning in him. His eyes began to wander, almost on auto-pilot as he found himself unable to stop, the fire in him burning evermore. He caught himself biting his lip, shaking himself out of it. Get a grip Anakin, you can’t be that self indulgent, at least… That feeling didn’t feel like it came from his spirit, and more from Obi-Wan’s body.

“Are you listening?” Obi-Wan snapped Anakin out of his trance, taking his hand, “I said, we were standing just like this, and then whatever happened after that, we ended up in this situation.”

Anakin nodded his head slowly, looking around,   
“And, uh,” He tried, his head still slightly fuzzy from his daydreaming, “The lights were going crazy, I think.” His lulled voice caused Obi-Wan to shake him, urging him to wake up and be more alert. He felt his senses returning to him, scratching his beard again, mumbling to himself.

Obi-Wan sighed defeatedly, throwing himself down onto the armchair, 

“This is hopeless,” He muttered, looking down at himself, “We’ll never change back.” He looked up at Anakin, gaze softening. He’d never looked at himself like this before, from this angle he looked gallant, somehow, like a hero. A smile crept onto his lips, laughing to himself. He was an old man in young skin, but he didn’t feel any younger. If anything, he knew this experience was going to age him horribly. Anakin sat down opposite him, sinking into the cushions with a grunt, feeling a vibration against his thigh. He sat up, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a holophone, it was ringing.

Upon answering, Satine’s face appeared in the ‘gram, smiling warmly as she saw his face,

“Master Kenobi, I’m glad you answered,” She bowed her head, unbothered by the look of confusion across Anakin’s face, “There is a gala tonight at the Senate, and it would appear that I have an extra ticket, and it would be an honour to have the renowned General Kenobi on my sleeve.” She laughed under her breath, waving the tickets in front of her, “It begins in three hours, don’t be late.”   
  


And just like that, the call ended, leaving the Jedi pair in stunned silence.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan started, sitting up slowly, “You’re going to that gala.”   
  
Anakin chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously,

“Well, that is good then, because so are you,” He stood, unflinching when Obi-Wan shot to his feet, raising a hand to silence his Master, “And I know what you’re going to say, Padmé didn’t mention it, did she?”

Obi-Wan looked to the floor, sheepish. Anakin knew his fiancé better than anybody, of course he’d know that. Anakin moved over to Obi-Wan, sliding a hand into the pocket of his cloak and retrieving a ticket, folded into a tiny square,

“I was going to surprise her,” He explained, unfolding the paper, “She and I both know that I have no interest in politics, but I wasn’t going to let her attend alone, that would be awful for her.” He laughed, handing Obi-Wan the ticket and backing up, not allowing Obi-Wan a second to react, “I’ll see you there, Master. We need to get ready, we’re going to the gala.”   
  
Obi-Wan stood in the centre of the room, watching in wonder as Anakin disappeared behind the closed doors. Has Anakin always had that sense for romance? He couldn't help but think, Anakin was actually quite charming.

But still, the thought of seeing Padmé again after their argument in her office… 

  
One long day had just become one  _ very  _ long night.


	3. The Sadness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan and Anakin attend the Senate's gala, where tensions reach boiling point amongst the guests, before Anakin discovers more of his Master's body than he initially intended to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone for sticking with me through this, please enjoy this chapter!
> 
> As of this chapter, Rating is now M, and may change to Explicit later.

As the sun began to set over the skyline of Coruscant, the Jedi duo having barely managed to scrape by the events of the day, unequipped and unprepared, the struggles having come only from underestimating the tasks the other had to perform on a daily basis. Obi-Wan having butted heads stubbornly with Anakin’s fiancé, Padmé, and Anakin having become a laughing stock at the Senate, failing to comprehend the intricacies of politics. Now, they had a shared goal, and that was to not screw up any more than they already had. 

Obi-Wan held up a set of robes to his chest, examining himself in the floor length mirror of Anakin’s bed chamber, muttering to himself about the smallest details, ranging from the undertone of the robes, to how they clashed with his eyes. He was determined to make a good impression, even if he wasn’t in his own body. He eventually settled on a set of deep, black and crimson tunic combo, draping his alternate choice delicately over the back of an armchair, as not to crease it. He began to undress, placing his boots uniformly at the foot of Anakin’s bed, his cloak sliding off his shoulders to pool on the floor. He turned, reaching down and collecting it, catching himself in the mirror as he returned to his standing position, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the mirror, his eyes tracing across the body he saw reflected at him. Anakin’s body was so smooth, so athletic. Young, taut and vaguely muscular, his abdomen slightly detailed by a whisper of a six-pack He ran a hand slowly over his chest, entranced by his reflection, unable to look away. He had never noticed Anakin’s body before, fascinated by the lines and almost perfect symmetry of his Padawan’s body. The way his braid ran so recklessly over his shoulder, the tip hanging freely at his chest. He ran his hand lower, fingertips dancing gracefully along his hips, fluttering dangerously close to the waistband of his undergarments, bringing himself to his senses. He felt himself flush, watching the colour rise in his reflection’s cheeks. He didn’t know what he was more bothered by, the fact that he felt this way, or the fact that he hadn’t felt this way before. He began to dress himself in the robes he’d chosen, folding his old set and placing them down into the laundry basket. He moved back over to the mirror, his hands fiddling with his Padawan braid, attempting to straighten it out, fruitlessly. He began to pull at it, his expression twisting into a frown as he struggled to figure out the logistics of styling his braid, having lost his touch after not having his own braid for over ten years. 

Anakin lay in Obi-Wan’s bed, staring at the ceiling as his mind drifted, broken out of his daydream by Obi-Wan yelling from the next room. Anakin sat up, sliding off the bed and making a swift beeline for his own quarters, leaning inside to see what the fuss was. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing as he saw Obi-Wan on his hands and knees, attempting to gather up the beads that had scattered about the place, his braid now a matted up mess against the side of his head. Anakin knelt beside Obi-Wan, picking up a handful of beads,   
“Everything alright, Master?” He held out the beads, passing them to Obi-Wan, who took them with a scowl, rising to his feet.

“Yes, Anakin,” He set the beads down on a nearby dresser, reaching up and attempting to tame his wild braid, “Everything is peachy.” He felt his fingers tangling in the hair, grunting in frustration as he looked into the mirror. He was annoyed, that much was obvious. He hadn’t had to plait a braid since he had done Anakin’s for him all those years ago, moments before he had severed his own with his saber. 

  
Anakin came up behind Obi-Wan, placing his hands on his shoulders,    
“Master, relax, let me,” He smiled, surprising Obi-Wan with his calm demeanour, an energy he had thought was all but lost on his Padawan. Anakin reached up, beginning to gently separate the hairs into sections, slowly plaiting the braid, a tenderness passing through him. He found himself looking at Obi-Wan in the mirror, his hands on autopilot as he fondly worked his way down the hair, holding it in place as he reached around the man before him, his body pressed against Obi-Wan’s as he took a few of the beads in his hand. Obi-Wan tensed as he felt Anakin lean against him, a soft exhale pushing from his lips. Anakin felt the man tense against him, his breath hot against his neck,

“Sorry, Master,” He moved back, returning his attention to the braid. Obi-Wan almost wanted to stop him from moving, wanting him to stay there, in that moment. 

“That’s, uh, okay.” Obi-Wan said at last, chuckling nervously. Why was his heart racing? Or, why was  _ Anakin’s  _ heart racing? He felt a flutter in his stomach, fixing his eyes on the dresser to avoid watching him in the mirror. He felt something change, something was suddenly  _ different _ . Oh, Force, be kind. 

_ You’re a Jedi Master, an adult. At least, you were. _

Anakin felt the back of his hand brush against Obi-Wan’s neck, sliding another bead up onto the braid, tying it in. He too had noticed the change, glancing into the mirror every now and again to see if he could catch Obi-Wan looking at him. He wanted Obi-Wan to look at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat, reaching around his Master once again to collect the remainder of the beads, his lips inches from tan skin, beard teasingly scratching the tender flesh of his neck. The room was thick, both Jedi begging the Force to slow their heartbeats. Obi-Wan closed his eyes as he felt Anakin breathing against his neck, hands clenched into fists at his sides to release the tension that had collected in his shoulders. He couldn’t deny, he knew this wasn’t the first time he’d felt like this about Anakin, odd moments here and there, he’d catch himself gazing at his Padawan with a yearning, longing to just touch his skin, feel his heat. But every time, he’d pushed the feelings away, remembering his place as Anakin’s teacher, it would be wrong to take advantage like that. Nothing could have prepared him for the fact that, just maybe, Anakin had felt the same.

Anakin tied the last bead into Obi-Wan’s hair, stepping back and clearing his throat,

“All done, Master,” He smiled, his heart rate beginning to slow as he felt the distance between them, “We should be moving, they’ll be expecting us soon at the Gala.”

Obi-Wan turned, bowing his head silently, not finding the words in that moment. He had to process what had just happened.

  * * *



Mace Windu stood in the Senate’s grand function hall, the decorations bold and entirely en vogue, arms placed stiffly behind his back as he stood with Ki-Adi Mundi, who leaned in, his voice hushed,

“Are you certain we need to do this?” He frowned slightly as his eyes scanned the room, looking for any sign of Obi-Wan. Mace closed his eyes, his shoulders falling as he exhaled heavily,

“Master Mundi, we cannot let that display in the Senate today go unpunished, Obi-Wan made a fool out of the entire council, and after all the work we’ve done to gain their favour, we can’t risk another situation like that,” He followed Ki-Adi’s eyes, searching for Obi-Wan in the crowd, returning to his stoic posture, “We have to deal with it. It’s the Jedi way.”

Ki-Adi nodded slightly, pursing his lips as he also returned to a straight posture, knowing that Master Windu was entirely correct.

Across the hall, Padmé stood with several other congress members, politely pretending to listen to what they were discussing. She had a million other things on her mind, all revolving around her argument with her fiancé earlier, heart heavy. Had she been too quick to make a conclusion on his words? She couldn’t shake what he’d said, how she should be more like Satine. Her eyes landed on Senator Kryze, narrowing slightly as she felt a bubble of jealousy burn behind her eyes, hand tightening slightly around the glass of Alderaanian wine in her hand. That woman, she thought, was so uptight, just like all these Senators.. Anakin had said he loved how Padmé wasn’t like the other Senators, was that a lie? She set her glass down, taking a deep breath.

That was enough wine for tonight.

Satine’s eyes periodically wandered to the large clock on the wall, struggling to maintain eye contact with the traders who spoke with her, simply responding with mumbles and laughs here and there. She was worried Obi-Wan wasn’t coming, that he’d only agreed to her offer of joining her tonight as a formality, like the true gentleman he was. She had a soft spot for the Jedi Master, having requested to the council that he be her personal guard on many occasions. She felt a tight sensation in her chest, only one question reeling through her mind. Where is Obi-Wan? 

“We’re here,” Anakin nudged Obi-Wan, who had been staring out the window of the cruiser the entire journey, “Are you coming?” 

Obi-Wan nodded, managing a smile. He couldn’t look at Anakin, their intimate moment in his chambers still repeating in his mind. They climbed out of the cruiser, moving into the Senate building, gaining passage from the guards and entering the room. They felt a dozen sets of eyes land on them at once, nerves filling their bodies. 

It’s just one party, how hard could it be?

Anakin and Obi-Wan went their separate ways, crossing paths again as they remembered their unique situation, moving over to their respective partners, who both seemed elated to see them. Padmé contained her excitement, curtseying as Obi-Wan approached her,   
“A pleasure to see you, Jedi Skywalker,” She bowed her head, glancing up with a twinkle in her eyes, “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”   
  
Obi-Wan forced a smile, his throat dry with anxiousness,   
“Senator Amidala, I have been prescribed as your personal liaison this evening, by order of the Jedi Council,” He bowed, offering his arm, keeping the facade of officialness as best he could, “And might I add, you look radiant this evening.”   
  
Padmé took Obi-Wan’s arm, resting against him slightly,

“Thank you, Ani.” She whispered, gazing up at him.

Meanwhile, Anakin had found himself on the arm of Satine, feeling almost like a trophy to the Duchess as she discussed trade deals with the men around her. He wore a charming smile, but inside he wanted to scream, his eyes finding Obi-Wan and Padmé across the hall. He felt a burning jealousy in his stomach, gritting his teeth through his smile. However, something bothered him as he watched them move across the room. He was entirely unsure as to  _ who  _ he was jealous of. 

“Master Kenobi,” Satine turned to face him, placing a hand on his bicep, “Will you walk with me?” She motioned to the rest of the hall, “I’m certain there are many people who wish to see you.”   
  
Anakin managed a bold laugh, patting himself on the chest as the laugh devolved into a cough,    
“Yes, I think a walk sounds fine.”   
  
Mace and Ki-Adi circled the outer edge of the room, their eyes fixed on Satine and the supposed Master Kenobi, following the pair across the room. They traced their movements, waiting like predators for their prey to fall into a false sense of security. Mace was disgusted by his pathetic excuse of a speech earlier that day, and he was set on letting him know this fact.

After an hour of meeting, greeting, drinking and feigning interest in Galactic Politics, Anakin had managed to escape the clinging Duchess, standing at a drinks table, throwing back as many glasses of wine as he could get his hands on. He couldn’t shake the ghost of Obi-Wan pressed against him, squeezing his eyes shut as he grasped the edge of the table.

“Master Kenobi,” Master Windu approached from behind, closely tailed by Ki-Adi, going in for the kill, “We’d like to speak with you.” He turned Anakin to face him, who shook his head as he stumbled, losing his balance with the wine swimming in his head,    
“Can’t it wait, Windu?” He caught himself on the table, his eyes burning, “I have somewhere to be.”   
  
Mace placed a hand on Anakin’s chest, his dark eyes narrowed, his demeanour extremely intense,

“Obi-Wan, that display of idiocy in the Senate earlier was unacceptable. You have a lot of explaining to do.” He kept the man before him straightened up, Ki-Adi moving in from the other side,

“Obi-Wan, you haven’t been yourself all day, there’s so many issues regarding this war that we have yet to discuss, let alone the-”   
  
Anakin threw his arms up, groaning loudly,   
“War this, war that! Who cares about the war?!” He exclaimed, watching as the two men stepped back, his balance beginning to slip. Mace clenched his jaw, scowling,   
“We do, Obi-Wan. We made you a Jedi Master because we care about the war, it’s our  _ job _ ,” He was furious, his entire body looming over Anakin like a stormcloud ready to strike a tree in twain with a bolt of lightning, “You’re out of the council. Sober up, and get out.”   
  
Obi-Wan and Padmé moved into the scene cautiously, Obi-Wan’s body freezing as he heard Mace’s words. He let go of Padmé, moving quickly in front of the two Jedi Masters in a panic,   
“What’s happening here?” He asked, eyes wide as his chest tightened. Mace placed a hand on his shoulder, gently moving him aside,

“Out of the way, Anakin,” He warned, “You’ll be assigned a new Master in the morning, Obi-Wan has disgraced the order.”   
  
Obi-Wan felt tears welling in his eyes, grabbing Mace’s hand, turning him back around,   
“Master Windu, please-”   
  
Ki-Adi stepped in, moving Obi-Wan back slowly,

“Learn your place, Padawan,” He turned away, moving out of view into the crowd behind Mace, a melting pot of feelings beginning to boil in Obi-Wan’s stomach, who span on his heels to look at Anakin,   
“What did you  _ do?! _ ” He barely restrained himself from yelling, eyes looking over the drunk man in front of him, a spectrum of emotions flooding his body. He felt rage, compassion, pity, dread, if you could name a negative emotion, Obi-Wan could feel it. Padmé took his hand, attempting to remove him from the situation,   
“Anakin, leave him, we have to go,” Her voice was hushed, but Obi-Wan rejected her, pulling his hand away sharply,

“Padmé, could you stop being so condescending for a moment, please?” He bit back the tears, his composure stripped away as his world fell apart around him, not showing even a shred of remorse as Padmé recoiled, hurt from his words,   
“What is wrong with you today, Anakin?” She winced, withdrawing into herself again, “You’ve been acting off all day.”

Obi-Wan raised a hand to his forehead, his stomach doing backflips as he felt Anakin rising to his side. He was so angry with Anakin, hurt and upset, he held himself straight, unable to look at Padmé,   
“I can’t do it Padmé,” He kept his voice low, “I’m rethinking this marriage thing.” Obi-Wan could almost hear Padmé’s heart shatter, her voice straining as she began to back away,   
“Ani, even after,” She tried, before throwing her hands up, “Forget it.”   
  
Anakin watched Padmé storm away, reaching out for her, the words never finding their way out of his mouth to call out to her. He grabbed Obi-Wan by the collar of his tunic, hauling him close,

“You did that on purpose,” His rage only heightened in his inebriated condition, “You couldn’t stand to see me happy, could you?”   
  
Obi-Wan put his weight against Anakin, causing them to stumble into the shadows of the hall where no one could see them, eyes dark,

“You ruined my life, Anakin, I did what was fair.” His words caused Anakin to tighten his grip, bringing him only closer,

“ _ Fair? _ ” His voice was almost a growl, inches from his ex-Master’s face, “Obi-Wan, you’re acting like, like a…”   
  
“A child?” Obi-Wan answered for him, placing his hands over Anakin’s to release himself, stumbling back, “Frustrating, isn’t it? Having to deal with somebody like this?”   
  
Anakin ran his fingers through his hair, his breathing became heavy,    
“Are you seriously being that petty, Obi-Wan?” He took steps toward the man, “I did my best today, I’ve been doing my absolute best throughout this whole, awful disaster of a situation, and it’s not like you’ve done an outstanding job, is it?”   
  
Obi-Wan took a step forward also, not backing down from the confrontation,

“It’s been one day, Anakin, and honestly I thought you might have coped with  _ forming a simple sentence _ , and somehow I believed that even just a day of responsibility was all you needed, but maybe not.” He felt the anxiety biting at him again, staring Anakin in the face with bloodshot eyes, the tears having retreated, his sadness replaced by sheer wrath. 

The pair stood face to face for a moment, staring each other down, daring each other to back down. The tender intimacy from earlier was gone, replaced once again by the animosity that had started this mess, their egos clashing like titans. 

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, not moving as he held the eye contact,

“We are going to go back out there, and you are going to put on a pleasant face,” He gestured to the crowd, the lights of the Gala blurring in Anakin’s eyes, “And for once in your life, Anakin, have a little grace.”   
  
He turned, pulling on Anakin’s arm, signalling him to follow him. Anakin scowled, tailing the other man begrudgingly, 

“I didn’t even want to come to this stupid, kriffing,  _ stupid _ …”   
  
Obi-Wan forced a smile as the lights hit him, pulling Anakin close to his side,

“You already said stupid, Anakin.”

_ Fuck you, Obi-Wan. _

  * _* *_



The remainder of the Gala went relatively well, if you didn’t count Padmé remaining in the ladies ‘fresher for over an hour, or Mace and Ki-Adi ignoring the pair’s entire existence for the rest of the night, or the general shift in atmosphere that had spawned from their fight.

Okay, it didn’t go well at all, but you have to be positive in these situations. Anakin continued to drink, Obi-Wan barely able to hold him up by the time they left, throwing him into the back of the cruiser, apologising profusely to the driver as he was violently sick on the seat, having to pay over double the credits for the inconvenience. Obi-Wan held Anakin up by his waist, slinging the drunken man’s arm over his shoulder, helping him into their quarters. He sighed as the bedroom door opened, dragging Anakin inside and shoving him onto the bed, rolling out the strain in his shoulder and arm. Anakin slumped in the bed, groaning loudly as he rolled onto his back, kicking off his boots and dragging himself further into the bed. He pulled a pillow to his chest, cuddling it. Obi-Wan watched Anakin, his heart heavy. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking down into his lap,

“Anakin, do you… Do you really think that I don’t care?” He asked, his hands finding a stray bolt of fabric on his tunic, playing with it as he waited nervously for the other man’s answer. Anakin buried his face in the pillow for a moment, before rolling onto his side, his eyelids heavy, not looking at Obi-Wan as he thought over his answer,

“I just wish you’d treat me like,” He trailed off, “Like you used to, Obi-Wan. You were nicer, before…”   
  
Obi-Wan felt his breath hitch, tilting his head to the ceiling,   
“Before Qui-Gon died,” He finished Anakin’s sentence for him, clenching his lower back as he fought off tears for the second time that night, “I know that things have been different since he left us, Anakin, but please… Never think that I don’t care about you.” He felt a hand slowly close over his on the bed, twisting slightly to see Anakin reaching out, holding his hand. He softened, a tear escaping and gliding down his cheek. He felt himself smiling, genuinely smiling. He did care about Anakin, very deeply. 

Anakin had closed his eyes, slowly drifting to sleep as he held Obi-Wan’s hand, his grip relaxing as he fell into slumber. Obi-Wan carefully removed his hand, standing slowly and moving to the door. He stopped in the door, looking back at the man in the bed. His heart warmed, and he left the room. 

Sleep tight, Anakin.

However, Anakin’s sleep was already restless, the itchy fabric of his robes causing him to toss and turn repeatedly. He eventually sat up, scrambling to get out of his clothes, throwing them off the side of the bed and laying face down in the bed. He couldn’t fight the heat in his skin, whining as he kicked off his undergarments, rolling onto his back and throwing a pillow against the wall.

He was horny, and he was hot, and he was in Obi-Wan’s body. He felt his groin throbbing, looking down to see Obi-Wan’s cock standing tall and proud in the night. He found himself breathless, as he slid his hands over the body he was in, memorising every inch of Obi-Wan’s skin, his broad, muscular shoulders, one hand rippling down strong, defined abdomen muscles to find the cause of his temperature, stroking fast. He couldn’t stop himself, needing to feel Obi-Wan’s pleasure. His free hand reached up, pulling at beard hair, moving up to the top of his head to tug on the long, strawberry-blonde locks Obi-Wan had spent so much time growing, gasping in delight as he felt the shock. He thrusted into his hand, a whimper escaping his lips. Everything felt so good, his body jerking as he craved more pleasure, biting his bottom lip hungrily. His drunken haze had shifted, reaching through to Force to sober himself up fast, needing to remember everything he was doing. He never wanted the moment to end, groaning as he moved his other hand from his head, joining his other hand to form a tube which he fucked rigorously, panting as he felt a knot tighten deep in him, his breath hot as he cried out into the darkness, cum splattering across muscular pecs, which rose and fell as Anakin attempted to catch his breath. The entire ordeal had ended just as fast as it had started, but it had felt so good, it had felt better than anything he ever could have imagined. He threw his head back against the mattress, before scooping a few drops of cum on his fingertips, raising them to his lips to lick them clean. His heart skipped a beat as he swallowed Obi-Wan’s cum, licking his lips as he collected the rest, swallowing every drop he could. It felt dirty in the very best way, eating his Master’s cum without him even knowing. He didn’t care if the Order had declared him without a Master, Obi-Wan would always be his Master. 

Realisation washed over him, and the joy of the moment left his being.

Ah shit, he had to apologise to the Order. He had to get Obi-Wan’s title back, he knew how proud his Master was of his title, and his position. He wiped himself down with a nearby hand towel, dressing himself in a fresh set of robes and centring himself in the Force. He needed absolute calm to tackle Mace Windu, but not in a battle of skill, but in a battle of wits. He needed to prove that Obi-Wan belonged in the council. 

He wanted Obi-Wan to be happy, after all.

  
  



	4. The Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin bares his soul, and Obi-Wan allows himself to be free for the first time in his life. The duo begin to make deep and meaningful discoveries about themselves, the wedding mere hours away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is emotional smut, the smutsmut will be soon, I promise! I just have a lot of feelings.

Obi-Wan found himself in the exact position he had been in almost eight hours prior, standing outside Padmé’s office in the Senate building. He had been angry, and he acted out of that anger, lashing out on someone who didn’t deserve it. Neither Anakin, nor Padmé deserved to face the brunt of his anger, and he had been taking out so many emotions on Anakin over the years since Qui-Gon’s death, he hadn’t even realised. He hadn’t stopped to think about how any of this had ever affected his Padawan, and he needed to step up to take responsibility, not only as Anakin’s Master, but as a person. He’d been thoughtless, and he never thought that maybe, just maybe, Anakin’s difficult nature had been a standin, a replacement for his anger, his tears. 

He traced his hand over his stomach, feeling the butterflies return, a lump formed in his throat. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened the door, walking into the office, searching for Padmé.

She wasn’t there.

On her desk, however, there was a stack of invites and a note, an expensive-looking glass with lipstick on the rim and an empty bottle of wine stood beside them. Obi-Wan tensed as he felt his regrets crawling across the back of his neck, approaching the desk and taking the note in his hands.

“ _ Dear Anakin,  _

_ If you’ve come to find me to talk about what happened at the Gala, you won’t find me here. You won’t find me on Coruscant. I’m flying back to Naboo ahead of the ceremony tomorrow, and if you still love me, I will see you there tomorrow morning.  _

_ And if I don’t see you tomorrow, I will never see you again. _

_ All my love, _

_ Padmé. _ ”

Obi-Wan set the note down on the desk, the crawling feeling on the back of his neck travelling down his spine, into his ribs, his lungs, filling his body with a sickly sense of remorse. He moved to the window, watching the myriad of ships that flew over the horizon. He had fucked up, and he had fucked up big time. He closed his eyes, delving deep into the Force for an answer, any answer. The situation had started because he and Anakin refused to see eye-to-eye, because they had put their own needs before each other. His eyes opened, sudden and wide as he realised what he had to do. He turned back to the desk, rummaging for a pen and paper, beginning to scrawl a list of things he had to find before sunrise. He was going to enact the greatest romantic gesture the galaxy had ever seen. He was going to make their ceremony beautiful, with only the  _ highest  _ quality food and drink, with the most en vogue decor. He was going to make Padmé see the man she was marrying in a whole new light.

He was going to save Anakin and Padmé’s marriage. It was time to go.

Leaving the office, he made a call with the Naboo guard, arranging for a ship to meet him at the temple later that night. He held the list tightly in his hand, running through his mind to figure out his first stop. He needed flowers, the ceremonial robes, the list went on, but he was driven on his mission to reverse all of the mistakes he’d made, not only that day but over the last ten years. He had a lot of ground to cover. He could feel himself smiling as he climbed into the cruiser, the anxiety had morphed into adrenaline, and Obi-Wan was excited. He was exhilarated, his idea swirling around in his mind, he was going to fix this. He would be back in his own body, and Anakin…

Anakin would be happy. 

  * * *



Anakin drummed his fingers on his thigh as he stood in the elevator, ascending the floors of the Jedi Temple. He had no idea what he was going to say to the council, but he had never felt so strongly about what he was doing.

The elevator doors slid open, and Anakin moved into the top floor of the Temple, the doors ahead of him the only thing separating him from the extremely difficult task ahead. Taking long strides, he could hear the voices of the council through the walls, fighting away every feeling of doubt he had in his mind. He paused outside the door until the voices stopped, waiting patiently, and as the council ceased their discussion, he took his chance, entering the room with his head held high. The council members turned to look at him, their lack of reaction suggesting they had sensed him outside. Anakin came to a stop at the edge of the circle of chairs, knowing that Obi-Wan would wait to be granted access. He had to get this right, he didn’t get a second chance. 

Mace glanced to the other Masters knowingly, the room silent, before gesturing that Anakin could take the floor. The Masters watched as he moved into the centre of the room, eyeing him cautiously. Master Yoda raised his hand slowly, motioning to the man before them,

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, stand on trial before the council, you do,” He began, “Speak your case, you may.”   
  
Anakin bowed his head, hands clasped before him. Here we go.

“Jedi Master of the council, I want to apologise for my lacklustre display of leadership, presence and eloquence at the Senate today. I also want to apologise for my actions at the Gala, not even two hours ago. I was acting entirely out of anger, and distress. This is not the Jedi Way.”

Mace sat back in his chair, listening to the plea, glancing to the other Master’s every so often. Truthfully, he didn’t want Obi-Wan to be out of the council. But, he knew this was the right thing to do, to make him see how he had been acting.

If only he knew the true impact of the situation, and who he was really forcing to face his true feelings.

Anakin felt his body wash with nerves, voice shaking slightly,

“I was wrong, to discount the hard work of the council,” His eyes drifted to the floor, “And I was wrong to discredit Master Windu and Master Mundi, especially in such an incendiary manner. For so long, I’ve tackled my title, fighting the pressure of what has been expected of me,” He didn’t know whether he was talking for Obi-Wan or himself anymore, but he meant every word of it, “And I let that pressure get to me.”   
  
Yoda began to smile, nodding knowingly, the other Masters beginning to do the same. He looked to Mace, who looked back, before returning his attention to the man in the middle of the room. He felt a strange sense of pride, watching the truth pouring out of him. 

“I stand before you, a man who has always thought that I was right,” Anakin stood tall, acknowledging them all with a smile, “But I was wrong, and I wish my apology to be heard.”

“The council hears you, we do,” Yoda tapped his walking stick on the floor, the sound echoing through the room, “And your title as Jedi Master, returned to you, it is.”   
  
A rush of blood shot through Anakin, and he couldn’t help but laugh, an uncontrollable smile stretching across his face,

“Thank you, thank you all so much,” He was breathless, feeling his knees go weak, “But, Jedi council, I wish to make one more statement.”   
  
Ki-Adi sat up in his chair slightly, motioning with his hand,

“The council accepts this request, you may speak, Master Kenobi.” 

With all eyes on him, Anakin knew that he had a lot of explaining to do, and even though Obi-Wan wasn’t there, he had to speak his truth.

“I would like to apologise, for the behaviour of my Padawan, Anakin,” He said at last, 

“He is difficult, and he is unpredictable, and I have tried my best to teach him the Jedi way, but-”   
  
Mace raised his hand, silencing Anakin. He held it for a moment, the silence passing over them. He shifted, resting his elbows on his legs,

“Master Kenobi, you are too hard on young Skywalker,” His voice was, surprisingly, soft and low, a calming timbre that Anakin had never heard Mace speak with before, “He was taken from his mother by a man he thought was going to protect him, both of whom then died.”

Anakin’s chest became tight as he was hit with memories of his mother, memories of Qui-Gon. The memories of the life he was promised, and the life he promised his mother. 

“You’ve been a parental figure to him, Obi-Wan, but you cannot force him to forget about them,” Mace continued, the other Masters nodding in agreement, “But, you must not force yourself to forget either.”

Luminara sat up in her chair, a warm smile on her face,   
“We are all aware of how much he meant to you, Obi-Wan,” She motioned to the other Masters, “Master Windu is right, you don’t have to forget him.”   
  
Anakin looked over his shoulder to her, her smile causing comfort, relaxing his body. He returned his attention to Mace, nodding his head,

“I thank you for your kindness, and I thank you for listening,” His voice cracked, tears stemming from his eyes, “If I may, I’d like to be excused.”   
  
Yoda nodded his head slightly, gesturing to the door and watching as Anakin fled. Yoda was small, Yoda was old, but Yoda was extremely in tune with the Force, and he couldn’t help but smile. Mace looked to him, an eyebrow raised,

“Master Yoda, is there anything you’d wish to discuss?”   
  
Yoda shook his head, his large ears flexing slightly,

“Nothing to share, there is. Much learned, there has been.” His words caused Mace to smile, sitting back in his chair with a chuckle.

  
  


  * * *



  
  


Obi-Wan moved through the neon-lit streets of the city, his hands burning from the handles of bags digging into his skin, but he didn’t care. The smile on his lips hadn’t moved at all, he was doing something right, but not only that, he was doing something that hadn’t been ordered by the council, that wasn’t a mission, it was an act of kindness, a motion of goodwill. He was making a decision of his own, accepting that he couldn’t control everything in life. 

“Anakin, Anakin Skywalker!” A voice called out to him, “Wait up!”   
  
Obi-Wan turned, the cake box under his arm threatening to slip away, scanning the area around him to see the source of the voice. Approaching him was a young Togruta woman, her eyes bright and green, Obi-Wan immediately feeling a resonance within her. She was Force-sensitive, she must be a youngling, explaining how she knew Anakin.

“Hi Anakin,” The young woman beamed as she reached his side, eyeing the bags he carried, “What’s with the stockpile?” She obviously had a prior relationship with Anakin, her forwardness and her willingness to ask such questions struck Obi-Wan as the exact type of person Anakin would be friends with. He adjusted his grip on the myriad of bags and boxes he carried, his smile unchanging,

“I was just doing some shopping, uh,” He didn’t know this woman’s name, but he could improvise, trying to find some semblance of a name, “Snips.”   
  
The woman saw the confusion on his face, but smiled nonetheless,

“Snips, huh? I mean, if you’re gonna give me a nickname Anakin, try and get it at least a little close to my actual name…” She came to a stop, folding her arms and pausing in thought,

“Actually, what could you do with Ahsoka?”   
  
Obi-Wan thanked the Force for that free pass, turning to look back at Ahsoka as she pondered in place, before throwing her hands out to the side, jogging back to his side,

“I actually kinda like it,” She made small scissoring motions with her fingers through the air, “Snips…” She glanced up at the man, continuing her line of interrogation, “You never told me what the shopping was for.”   
  
He looked ahead as they walked, chuckling,   
“You’re asking a lot of questions tonight,  _ Snips _ ,” He made a point to use the nickname he’d assigned her, “But it was my turn to stock up the kitchen in the quarters,” He adjusted his grip again, feeling Ahsoka move around to his other side, clearly intrigued by the bags,

“And you chose to do it  _ now _ ?” She inquired, gesturing to the moons high in the sky, “I couldn’t eat anything this late, my thighs already look like cottage cheese, but-”   
  
Obi-Wan turned sharply to Ahsoka, frowning,    
“Snips, no,” He looked over the young woman, softening as he saw her retreat from his change in tone, “You’re training to be Padawan, yes?” His smile returned as he saw her nod, “You’re young. Too young to be worrying about your body, because your body is  _ beautiful _ .”

In truth, Obi-Wan was exchanging advice he wished he’d given to Anakin years ago, before he had obsessively tried to gain muscle mass, comparing himself to other Jedi endlessly. He was lean, and he was beautiful. Obi-Wan cursed himself for never telling him.

Ahsoka’s green eyes were awash with reflections of the lights around them, but she was mesmerised by his words. She began to laugh, gleefully,

“Anakin, are you alright? I’ve never heard you compliment anyone other than Obi-Wan.” She teased, playfully poking him in the side. Obi-Wan felt his face flush, laughing along with her,

“Well, I felt that it was time to tell you the truth. You are beautiful, Ahsoka, and you should know that. All Padawan should be told they are beautiful.”

Ahsoka span on her heels, stopping once more and smiling up at him,

“Thanks, Anakin,” She stood proudly, the confidence of her friend’s words flowing through her, “Obi-Wan is lucky to have a Padawan like you.”

With a wave, she disappeared into the night, bright and full of esprit, Obi-Wan’s mind wandered to Anakin as he continued on his journey back to his cruiser. So many times he’d found Anakin in the Jedi gym, alone, into the small hours of the morning, crying in frustration as he pushed his body to the limits, and he’d never interjected. He’d never stopped him, pulled him aside and begged him to stop. He had wanted to, but he stopped himself every time, truly believing that it was for the best. The reality was, he’d only pushed Anakin’s obsession to be the best ever further, by never making him see how perfect he was. Even earlier, as he admired his Padawan’s body in the mirror, he had stopped himself, instinctively withdrawing from any sort of situation where he would compliment Anakin.

He had been an awful Master.

Upon reaching his cruiser, he placed the bags and boxes across the backseat, before climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. He took a deep breath, running over the plan in his head. He didn’t want to wait a second longer before he could make Anakin happy, make him smile from ear to ear.

He drove out of the parking bay, rising into the skyline and driving back to the Temple, feeling his braid flow behind him in the wind, his heart racing as he felt his inhibitions leaving him. Had he taught Anakin the fear that had been circling inside him that day, had he unloaded his anxieties onto him after Qui-Gon’s death? He blamed himself for so many of Anakin’s behavioural issues, but he was going to make everything right, and at last he could be a reason for Anakin’s happiness, rather than his distress.

But Obi-Wan had no idea how much of Anakin’s happiness he  _ was  _ the reason for, how often Anakin would just look at his Master and smile, happy knowing that he was even there with him. Obi-Wan made Anakin so,  _ so _ happy, he just couldn’t see it yet.

He parked the cruiser in the bay, climbing out and gathering the bags in his hands again. He had to get to Naboo, but he had to take Anakin with him, he had to get them there together, so that he could get them back into their own bodies and Padmé could marry him. That was what had to happen, and it was what would make Anakin happy.

He found the ship he had arranged earlier that night, handing off the bags to a shiphand, explaining that he would be back shortly with another man, and that they needed to get to Naboo by sunrise. The ship’s crew were of course baffled by such a request, but agreed to the mighty task at hand.

Obi-Wan made his way back into the Temple, and to his quarters. He threw himself onto the sofa, chest rising and falling heavily, his breath short. He stared at the ceiling, catching up with himself as he ran over the plan once more in his head. 

“Master,” Anakin’s voice resounded from the door, Obi-Wan looking up to see him, a tingle rippling through his chest, “I did it.”   
  
Obi-Wan sat up, frowning as concern filled his mind,    
“Did what, Anakin?” He braced himself for more bad news, but forced himself to relax. No more fear, Obi-Wan. Anakin sat beside him, grinning,   
“The council has agreed to give you back your title, you’re my Master again.”

Obi-Wan’s heart fluttered as he looked at Anakin, wanting to throw his arms around the man, just wanting to make him smile. He placed a hand on his, eyes half lidded,

“I don’t know how you did that, Anakin, but thank you. Thank you, so much.” His voice breaking slightly, before slumping a little, Anakin catching him,

“Master, are you okay?” He panicked slightly, holding him up, “What’s wrong?”   
  
Obi-Wan shook his head, his balance returning,   
“Yes, of course, sorry, I just haven’t slept,” He took Anakin’s hand, pulling him to his feet, “We need to get to Naboo, Anakin, we don’t have time,” He stumbled along, his tiredness hitting him all at once like a tonne of bricks. Anakin followed Obi-Wan, supporting him as best he could, stopping him as they reached the landing bay, taking his hands,

“Obi-Wan, you need rest, can you just stop for a moment?”   
  
“We need to get to Naboo, Anakin,” Obi-Wan fought back, pulling him towards the ship, “I know how to change us back, it’s clear to me now.” He let go of Anakin’s hand, moving into the ship, Anakin following him on board. 

“You know how to change us  _ back _ ?” He asked quickly, the entry hatch closing behind them, “How?”

Obi-Wan turned to him, barely able to keep his eyes open, the excitement of the last few hours having been the only thing keeping him awake. Anakin guided him into a nearby lounge, helping him sit down on a couch. Anakin looked over his Master with deep concern, hearing the rumble and rattle of the ship’s crew below them, beginning to prep the ship for travel. Obi-Wan was barely coherent, his body leaning heavily against Anakin. He smiled, his body laying heavier and heavier until he found himself lying across Anakin’s lap, drifting into a deep sleep. 

Anakin looked down at the man asleep on his lap, a fondness sweeping through his heart, raising a hand to delicately pet the top of his head, feeling him relax as he fell into his slumber. A shiphand came to ask if they were ready to depart, Anakin giving them the go-ahead to fly out. It would be a long journey to Naboo, but Anakin didn’t want to move. He was comfortable, softly brushing Obi-Wan’s hair back with his hand. This time, Obi-Wan, this time I’ll look after you. 

The ship lifted off, flying from the landing bay into the night sky, the lights and sounds of Coruscant becoming distant, eventually fading into nothing. The only thing to be heard now was the low hum of the engine room, and Obi-Wan’s soft, delicate breathing as he slept in Anakin’s lap. It had been a long time since they had been this close, and Anakin felt himself drifting into his thoughts, distant memories returning to him in his daze, remembering the times he had fallen asleep on Obi-Wan as a child, the nights he had been haunted by awful, violent visions, and he had slept in his Master’s bed with him. He looked back on them fondly, feeling weightless as he sank into the memories, finding a comfort in the moment. He looked down at Obi-Wan, warmth piercing his skin as he caressed his neck and shoulders, moving down slightly with his hand. 

They had been through so much that day, even without the decade prior. The day they’d shared together would cement their relationship forever, even if… 

“Master, I know you’re asleep, but,” Anakin kept his voice soft, as not to wake his Master, “I understand. I now know things that I wish I’d known before. I understand this feeling of  _ needing  _ to stay, to… To stick with it. To accept things as they are.” He could feel his voice breaking, a rawness welling in him, his truth coming to light, “But I want to tell you, Master, please… It’s not that way. You’re,  _ incredible _ ,” He felt a tear on his cheek, drifting to his chin, “And you feel like I don’t appreciate what you do, and for so long I’ve been  _ angry  _ about things that weren’t your fault, and I…”

More tears began to slide down his face, collecting in his beard, his heart aching as he bore himself,    
“And it was my fault, Master, I’ve been… I made you think that you weren’t worthy of your Master. I was selfish, Obi-Wan, and,” Anakin choked on his words almost, struggling to keep his voice a whisper, “And I love you.”   
  
A bright light bloomed in the corner of his eyes as stillness lanced through his heart, his breathing slowing as it dawned on him. The light faded fast, as if it had been waiting for something, but Anakin remained still. 

_ Shit. _

When they arrived on Naboo, things were going to change. Anakin would marry Padmé, and that would be that. Obi-Wan would be his Master, and they would be Jedi. But he couldn’t accept that, he’d seen so much of himself through Obi-Wan’s eyes, that he knew the truth. He knew he loved Obi-Wan, but he didn’t know if Obi-Wan loved him. He wanted to believe the things he’d felt that day, the shots of adrenaline every time he’d felt their bodies touch, the way his entire body relaxed when they were even in the same room together. He wanted so badly to think that by some twist of fate, his Master loved him the way that he loved him. He felt a large weight of guilt, knowing that he had used Padmé as an outlet for his bottled feelings, and he did love her. He had never lied when he said he loved her. He just didn’t love her the way that he loved Obi-Wan. His eyes drifted over Obi-Wan’s sleeping frame, watching as he gently rolled onto his back, a sleepy smile on his lips as he dreamt.

He raised two fingers to his lips, kissing them, pressing them delicately to the other man’s lips. After all of this, after everything, whatever came their way after this day, he knew he loved him. 

He had always loved him.

  
  



	5. The Sacrament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With one final chance to change back before the wedding, Obi-Wan realises the object of his affections is a lot closer than he thought, and Anakin embraces the changes he has to make, no matter the cost.
> 
> Just one day, and so much has changed for our Jedi duo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes some more risqué themes, with major feels and love! Thanks so much for sticking with me on this crazy journey, this was my first multi-chapter fic!

The ship cruised through the emptiness of space, gaining a steady momentum as they approached the Naboo system. Obi-Wan had been asleep the entire journey, Anakin having drifted off eventually as well, the pair sleeping soundly on that same sofa. As the ship hit a brief turbulence, they were shaken awake, Obi-Wan sitting up suddenly, holding his forehead and groaning, his mind fuzzy,

“Are we here? Have we landed?” He asked hazily, fumbling around for a data pad. Anakin stretched, yawning as he extended through his whole body, his arm slumping around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. He jerked his hand back slightly as Obi-Wan tensed up, but they both relaxed, Anakin keeping his arm around the other man. Obi-Wan picked up a nearby data pad, his face hot as he felt himself shift instinctively closer to Anakin, clearing his throat as he checked their location on the GPS,

“We’re approaching the system, we still have an hour or two before we land,” He straightened up, setting down the data pad. He cupped his hands in his lap, a nervousness passing between them, “I… I think I’m going to get a shower.”

Anakin drew his hand back, nodding silently as Obi-Wan rose to his feet, moving off into the ship’s lounge area to find the ‘fresher. His heartbeat had doubled when Obi-Wan had sat so close to him, and he had wanted nothing more than to pull him into a loving embrace, kissing him with all the passion he could muster. His dreams still lingered in the back of his mind, sounds and tastes of sex tingling in his head, running his tongue across his bottom lip as he closed his eyes, laying his head back against the wall and drifting back into a nap, hoping he would be able to go back into his dream.

Obi-Wan turned on the hot water, the shower steaming up the otherwise cramped ‘fresher quite quickly. He stepped out of his robes, folding up his clothes neatly and draping them over a nearby rail on the wall. He stepped into the shower, feeling the water run over his body… Well, Anakin’s body. The sensation was strange, the water seemed to slide immediately off of Anakin’s skin, not catching on any hairs like they would on his own. Anakin had kept his body clean shaven, much like he had when he was a Padawan, albeit Anakin had much darker hair than his. He emptied some gel onto his hands, lathering it across his skin, his hands gliding so easily down his arms, down his body, down his legs, across every section of Anakin’s young, supple body. He felt himself getting hot in the shower room, his eyes drifting every so often to what he could only describe as a possible source of his Padawan’s confidence. Anakin was well endowed, this much was clear. Obi-Wan found he couldn’t keep his attention off of it, watching the water wash away the suds of soap, exposing the tanned, smooth skin underneath once more. He ran his hands down his body, tilting his head back to let the water run over his face, hoping to distract himself. He couldn’t. His hand slowly wrapped around the shaft of Anakin’s impressive cock, feeling it’s weight and girth in his hand, squeezing up to the shaft as it began to harden at his touch. He exhaled shakily, the water running over him, only adding to the heat of the moment, his free hand exploring Anakin’s body, caressing his chest as he leant back on his heels, his back meeting the wall with a wet thud, resting his head back. He began to stroke slowly and broadly as he became fully hard, amazed by how far his hand had to travel from tip to shaft. His head rolled to the side, eyes opening slowly and gazing at his reflection in the glass of the door, feeling his breath hitch. Anakin was beautiful, and seeing him like this was so sexy, feet planted so widely, knees bent and hips cocked slightly upward, his tight abdomen curving inward as he arched into his strokes, unable to take his eyes off of his reflection, his thrusts quickening. He was lost in a haze, mind running with images of Anakin over him, stroking his big, hard cock as Obi-Wan worshipped him, eager to please him. He bucked his hips slightly, gasping as pleasure surged through him, locking eyes with his reflection, panting as his free hand shot out, desperately reaching out to touch Anakin, to hold him, to feel him as he felt himself nearing the edge, turning to the door of the shower and pressing himself against it, hungrily pressing his lips to the glass, unable to control himself as the fantasy of kissing his Padawan sent him sailing into bliss, spraying thick ropes of cum on the glass, whining against the door, entire body shaking. 

The water continued to run over his body as he stumbled back, sinking against the corner, chest heaving. He watched as his seed dripped slowly down the glass, laughing breathily. He didn’t feel bad about it, his adrenaline rush had returned. He allowed the shower to wash him clean once again, turning it off and stepping out, patting himself dry with a towel before wiping the cum off the glass with a snicker, feeling like a Padawan himself, succumbing to his needs in the shower after a long training session, mind blurred by images of his own Master. He grabbed his robes off of the rail, dressing himself in the same robes as yesterday, stepping out of the ‘fresher with a new lease of energy, the self-consciousness having melted away, his anxiousness thrown aside. 

No more fear, Obi-Wan. 

  * * *



Anakin was still sound asleep as Obi-Wan returned to the lounge area of the ship. His body lay squarely across the couch. His legs were widely spread, manspreading as he dozed heavily. Obi-Wan approached him slowly, creeping across the room so not to disturb him. He lowered himself onto the sofa, laying across his lap once more, a comforting warmth blossoming in his chest as he reclined across the other man, closing his eyes as he found a comfortable position to lay in. He was almost comfortable to return to his slumber, eyes opening as he felt a lump against his back, shifting slightly, trying to ignore it. The lump remained, Obi-Wan grunting as he sat up, looking over his shoulder. Anakin probably had his saber twisted in its holster, he just had to adjust it. He lay his hand over the bulge in Anakin’s robe, flinching as the other man groaned lowly, the bulge solid and protruding. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened slowly, realising exactly what the bulge was. 

_ Oh _ . 

A sweat formed on Obi-Wan’s brow as he eyed Anakin’s bulge, a confusing cluster of emotions circling in his gut. He was in Anakin’s body, looking at his own erection, and this was pretty weird. His eyes wandered up to Anakin’s face, or was it his own face? He didn’t know what was what anymore, the entire day had been like this. He had given in to his desires in the ‘fresher earlier, but this was an entirely different subject. He moved back, shaking his head, knowing that this would be too far. No, Anakin was to be married, and that was final. It was what Anakin wanted. Surely, it was what Anakin wanted. 

_ It wasn’t what Anakin wanted _ .

“Obi-Wan…” Anakin murmured in his sleep, gaining Obi-Wan’s attention immediately, “Don’t stop, Obi-Wan…” He rolled his hips, biting his bottom lip in his sleep. Obi-Wan’s back lurched slightly as he watched, encapsulated by what he saw. Anakin was lost in a wet dream about him, and whether he realised it or not, Obi-Wan was right there ready to submit to his demands. He enacted every ounce of self-restraint he had in him, his hands twitching slightly at his sides as he watched Anakin thrust into the air gently, his body arching as he moaned lightly in his sleep. It was perverse, Obi-Wan watching Anakin like this. But he couldn’t look away. Anakin’s breathing became heavier, his expression twisting slightly as he began to curve into his thrusts, 

“Master…” He whined in his sleep, Obi-Wan’s breath hitching as he reached out, placing a hand delicately on Anakin’s thigh. 

_ I’m here, Anakin. I’m here. _

Anakin grunted, thrusting harder, more suddenly, his body convulsing as he came in his clothes, slowly relaxing as he lay there. Obi-Wan kept his hand on Anakin’s thigh, his heart racing. He lay down again, resting in the other man’s lap. He gazed up at Anakin, full of such longing, wanting  _ so much  _ of his love. He had convinced himself he couldn’t have it, but he wanted it. The ship shook slightly as it entered Naboo’s atmosphere, the sudden motion waking Anakin from his sleep, lifting his head lazily with a grumble, looking down at Obi-Wan in his lap and immediately smiling as he met his gaze,   
“Was I asleep?” He asked, his voice hoarse and low. Obi-Wan nodded, chuckling and remaining across his legs,   
“Extremely asleep, we’re about to land in Varykino, where the ceremony will be held.”   
  
The mention of the ceremony erased Anakin’s smile, an expression of deep though passing over him as he sat back, nodding,   
“Yes… Obi-Wan,” He said suddenly, “Are you… You don’t…” He tried, struggling to find the words to say. Obi-Wan sat up, shaking his head and shushing Anakin,   
“Anakin, I told you, I can change us back,” He was very confident in this notion, rising to his feet, “You and Padmé will be wed, I promise.” 

Anakin sank into the seat, becoming solemn as Obi-Wan walked away to prepare to disembark. He was facing a deep internal conflict, knowing that no matter how much he loved and cared for Padmé, he loved Obi-Wan more. He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling torn between his head and his heart. He knew he had to marry Padmé… Didn’t he?

  * * *



Upon arriving at the Varykino lake retreat, Obi-Wan hadn’t waited a single second before he set his plan into motion, organising a luscious buffet spread, with a beautiful cake as the centrepiece. He laid out a small selection of glasses and wines, stringing small ambient lights across the pillars and structures around the ceremony grounds. He draped banners, sashes and floral pieces, not stopping for a second as he buzzed from job to job, the sunrise glistening on the lake. Anakin watched him work from afar, amazed by his diligence and thoroughly impressed by the job he’d done, creating the perfect venue. He approached him, whistling as he looked around,   
“Not bad, Master,” He nudged him in the side, “You’ve really outdone yourself.”   
  
Obi-Wan turned to Anakin, adrenaline pumping through him,    
“Not me, Anakin,” He was almost hovering from the level of excitement in him, “You did this. Padmé is going to think that you did this.” His hands were shaking as he gestured grandly to the area around them. Anakin took Obi-Wan’s hand in his, frowning slightly,   
“Are you alright, Master? You seem tense.”   
  
What was this feeling Obi-Wan was feeling? He felt like he’d lifted off like a starship, soaring into the stratosphere, could it be the coffee? The sugar? Or was it that pizza he’d picked up while shopping on Coruscant? He felt smug, knowing that he’d eaten three slices of that  _ incredible  _ pizza. Was this carbs? Were carbs causing this? No, no it wasn’t carbs, don’t be ridiculous, Obi-Wan. He couldn’t deny what he’d felt earlier on the ship… How long had it been since his heart had skipped a beat like it had with Anakin that day? He’d struggled to keep an even keel for so long in his life, to keep everything calm and neat and perfect, but how  _ amazing  _ had the chaos of this day felt? 

“I don’t know Anakin, and for the first time I don’t know what is going to happen next,” Obi-Wan had been smiling from ear to ear, Anakin staring back at him with wonder at the transformation his Master had been through, “But I’m not scared anymore Anakin, and you shouldn’t be either. I can’t promise things will turn out fine, I know that,” He took Anakin’s hands in his own, gazing into his eyes, “But I need you to hear this, because this is the most important thing I could ever say to you,” He kept his voice low, heart racing, “You don’t have to bottle up your emotions, it doesn’t make you weak Anakin. They make you stronger, no matter what the council has said.”

No more hiding, Obi-Wan. No more waiting. 

_ No more fear. _

Anakin felt himself lift with weightlessness as he heard those words, knowing that his Master finally understood him. He squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand, grinning,   
“Okay Obi-Wan, let’s change back.”   
  
Obi-Wan nodded, eyes full of light as he led Anakin to the centre of the ceremony grounds, the pair taking the stance that they had been in when they had initially swapped bodies, focusing,   
“I understand you, Anakin, I see now why you act the way you do, and I’m sorry.”   
  
Anakin was giddy at the thought of finally being back in his own body, his whole body tingling with nerves,   
“Yes, blah blah, we learned so many things about each other, I understand you as well, Master.”

They both reached out into the Force, the lights around the venue starting to buzz and flicker. The sensation of midi-chlorians shifting between them started to tighten, but nothing happened. Anakin opened his eyes, frowning,   
“Nothing happened.” His grip on Obi-Wan’s hand slacked, but Obi-Wan tightened his grip to keep his hand there, using his other hand to run down Anakin’s arm reassuringly,   
“Let’s try again, we have time.”

Reaching out into the Force again, they repeated the feelings, the lights flickering again, their energy starting to tilt, but again nothing had happened. Anakin pulled his hand back, throwing his head back in frustration,   
“Why isn’t this  _ working _ ?!”

Obi-Wan felt his body become heavy, his shoulders sinking as he looked to the floor, his mind clouding with doubt.   
“I… I don’t know what to do, Anakin. I don’t know how to change us back.”   
  
Anakin turned suddenly to Obi-Wan, as a realisation dawned on him,   
“Master, what if… What if this means we’re stuck like this?” His voice broke, anxiety suddenly swallowing him whole, “I shouldn’t have doubted you Master, if I hadn’t have been so  _ difficult  _ this wouldn’t have happened.”    
  
Obi-Wan rushed to Anakin’s side, gently holding his shoulders and ducking to meet his eye line,   
“Anakin, I promise you, that if this is how things are now, I will protect you, okay?” He assured, urging Anakin to look at him, “I won’t let this thing get to you,”   
  
“But we both know that our lives are basically over,” Anakin interrupted, breaking further, his chest tight and suffocating, his body screaming at him to just get on the next flight and go back to Coruscant, “I’ll never pass my knighthood exams, I’ll never train to become a Jedi Master…”   
  
These ideas added more weight to Obi-Wan’s thoughts, his eyes falling half lidded,   
“I’ll have to do it all again, all that pain, all that stress… I wanted to make things right, Anakin, I tried, I just…”   
  
Anakin pressed a finger to Obi-Wan’s lips, a lump having build in his throat where his voice had caught,   
“We have to tell Padmé. I’m not letting you throw your life away for me, Obi-Wan, even if you are… In my body…” He lowered his hand, taking Obi-Wan’s hand in his and running his thumb tenderly across his knuckles, “Just go up there, go up there and break it off.”   
  
Obi-Wan winced, nodding slightly. He knew what he had to do, he just didn’t want to do it. This was going to hurt.

  * * *



Obi-Wan stood before the Pontifex, dressed in the ceremonial robes Anakin had picked out, his whole body stiff with the crippling weight of what he had to do. Anakin stood just to his side, reassuring him with glances, occasionally reaching out and rubbing his shoulder. He knew how hard this would be, part of him wished he could do it for him, that their roles could be reversed. 

C-3PO and R2-D2 stood the other side, watching as Padmé walked steadily down the aisle. Obi-Wan wanted to cry, if he was honest, holding back the tears. He glanced at Padmé as she stood beside him, lifting the veil from her face.

“Dearly beloved,” Maxiron smiled warmly as he looked between them, “We are gathered here today…”   
  
“ _ I’m not ready to do this! _ ” Obi-Wan exclaimed suddenly, his whole body shaking as he let it all out.

Maxiron and Padmé both turned to him suddenly, R2 beeping loudly to the side. C-3PO leant in slightly towards him,   
“Quite right, Artoo,  _ very harsh  _ indeed.”

Obi-Wan took a shaky breath, turning to Padmé, looking her in the eye, straining to not crack from her heartbroken expression,   
“I’m… Sorry, Padmé,” He took her hands slowly in his, “You’re an incredible woman, and I didn’t think that I… I would ever find a woman who could love An-” He caught himself, “Who could love me as much as my mother, but I was wrong,” He bit back the tears, “You do love me, and...”   
  
Padmé couldn’t restrain her tears like Obi-Wan could, her hands trembling in his,   
“I  _ do  _ love you, Anakin, please,” She tried, but Obi-Wan shook his head, inhaling deeply,   
“We can’t do this, Padmé, even though… I love you.”   
  
A soft light shone from Anakin’s chest, the reality sinking in as he saw a similar light shining from Obi-Wan. 

_ Holy kriff that was it. _

“Say that again,” Anakin quickly interrupted, grabbing Obi-Wan’s hand and turning him to face him, eyes wide, “Say it again.”   
  
Obi-Wan looked between Anakin and Padmé, who watched in a mixture of confusion and distress,    
“What…?”   
  
“I love you,” Anakin repeated, the light beginning to bloom between them, a smile growing on his face as he felt the butterflies in his stomach. Obi-Wan took Anakin’s hands in his, tears beginning to break through,   
“ _ I love you _ ,” Obi-Wan echoed Anakin, his voice cracking as they stood together, “Anakin, I promise, I care about you, I always have,” His eyes never left Anakin’s, his heart racing, the world around them falling away to nothing as the light swallowed them, “I love your messiness, I love your grumpy glares in the morning, I love you through and through.”   
  
Anakin couldn’t stop the tears either, the rush of finally accepting who he was and how he truly felt an overwhelming sensation,    
“Obi-Wan, you know that I love you for you, I’ve always loved you, I love you.”   
  
The Force shook between them, erupting in a burst of energy, their words echoing through their bodies as they felt the switch happen, the light fading as they stood, hands still held, eyes still locked.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan felt his beard, his hair, and he saw the beautiful man before him, who gazed back in awe.   
  
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin felt his braid, his smooth chin and neck, his body shaking slightly, a small laugh escaping him.

Obi-Wan pulled Anakin into a tight embrace, exhaling slowly,   
“Is that really you…?”   
  
Padmé watched, but she didn’t feel angry. Part of her had always known that Anakin wasn’t fully hers. She had somehow always known, from the drift in his attention, to the hurt in his eyes when he had spoken about how he believed Obi-Wan didn’t care about him. She knew he loved him, she just hadn’t wanted to accept it. But when she looked at Anakin, and how he looked at Obi-Wan in that moment, she  _ couldn’t  _ be upset about it. She had never seen Anakin this happy.

Anakin dabbed his eyes dry with his sleeve, another laugh escaping him,   
“Master, I’m so sorry… If you thought I didn’t love you...”

Obi-Wan shushed him, moving a hand up to his bicep, squeezing it,   
“Don’t be sorry, Anakin, I know things now,” He assured, leaning in and resting his forehead against Anakin’s, “It’s taken this crazy day to show me the truth, but I see it all now.”

They embraced, before their lips met at last, hearts beating as one as they kissed, both men overjoyed to not only be back in their own bodies, but to be together at last, accepting their truth. They broke the kiss, remaining close, breathless. Anakin took a step back, slowly turning to Padmé. Even in his happiness, he felt a terrible guilt about what he’d done. He went to speak, but she stopped him, holding a hand up.

“I love you, Anakin, and that will never change,” She kept her poise, seeming almost akin to Senator Kryze with her statuesque posture in the moment, “And I love you enough to know that to see you happy, this is a sacrifice I must make. Go to him, Anakin.” She smiled, never weak, and never angry. She had bowed out gracefully, her dignity intact. Anakin kissed Padmé’s cheek softly, whispering into her ear.

_ Thank you _ .

Obi-Wan took Anakin into his arms once more, their lips meeting passionately, bodies pressed together as they weighed into each other, every ounce of love and compassion they held bursting out into their embrace. 

Anakin knew nobody would ever believe him… But it happened.

They loved each other, today, and every day. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am considering a finale chapter thats essentially just porn without plot, just to tie things up nicely. A whole chapter of Obikin smut. That sound like something you'd be interested in? Let me know!!


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